#plylons

[jobedebo]

Sunset & reflections #sunset_pics #sunset #sunsetphotography #goldensky #goldenclouds #goodevening #eveningpost #clouds #cloudporn #cloudscape #cloudstagram #cloudscapes #river #reflections #plylons #pylon #powerlines #goldensky #hopeyouarewell #landscapephotography #landscape #picoftheday #photography #smartphonephotography #beautiful #beautifulworld https://www.instagram.com/p/Cloj_xRDJuC/?igshid=NGJjMDIxMWI=

[delimeful]

I was wondering, since Logan seemed so shocked that Virgil could kick through solid plyton, (I think thats what it was called) does that mean the Earth metals are just stronger than most metals in space? Would the WIBAR crew be surprised by how strong they are? What would plyton best be compared to in terms of strength? Sorry if that's a lot of questions!

it’s not that earth metals are necessarily stronger, but that the materials used for the interiors of ship living spaces are weaker than what humans would use! 

plylon would be comparable to like, a hollow core door, because it’s used for cabinets and thus needs to be light enough for multiple species to be able to open! 

the shock factor in virgil breaking it is partially because most species can’t match the level of strength needed to break it (logan, patton), and partially because virgil doesn’t have any natural armor or other hard exterior (roman). humans are very squishy by space standards so the strength & durability is even more surprising! 

[gigsoupmusic]

Future Yard 2019 – Birkenhead, The Wirral (23rd and 24th August)

Put together by the team behind Bido Lito! magazine, a local monthly which has been promoting arts and culture on Merseyside for the best part of a decade now, the stated aim of Future Yard was to put the much neglected Birkenhead back on the map by re-imagining venues and spaces around the city. Best known as a shipbuilding town prior to the decline of that industry during the second half of the 20th century, Birkenhead is often synonymous with crime and poverty in the minds of many. Frequently dismissed as living in the shadow of its world famous neighbour across the Mersey, it's a city with a rich history of its own. Besides containing an array listed buildings that includes the stunning 850-year-old Birkenhead Priory, it was also home to England's first street tramway system. In addition to this there's Birkenhead Park, the first in the world to be financed using public funds and a forerunner to the Parks Movement which inspired the likes of Central Park in New York and Sefton Park in Liverpool. Although based there Future Yard is not just about the host city, it's about the wider Wirral area of which Birkenhead is essentially the capital. Flanked in the south west by the River Dee, the oblong shaped peninsula also has historical and social connections with parts of North Wales. Featuring a diverse range of local talent performing alongside national and international artists, Future Yard couldn't have picked a better weekend on which to host its inaugural festival of "weird Wirral wonderment". FRIDAY Arriving at the Priory early on the Friday, it was a good opportunity catch a glimpse of PYLON. An installation created by Wirral-born electronic artist Forest Swords in collaboration with the Kazimer, it was housed in the refurbished Priory refectory. Comprised of a pylon with a series of programmed symbols running through the middle, they would be "activated" by artists such as Scalping, Luke Abbot and others across the weekend. Designed as a space for "improvisation, exploration and contemplation", the plylon was positioned in the centre of the room and encircled by pillows on which a number of early arrivals could be found enjoying its meditative sounds while waiting for Samurai Kip to kick off the festival with their blend of jazz, funk and soul.

It's never easy opening a festival, particularly a brand new one, but the local quartet put on a good performance for a small crowd. The setting couldn't be more perfect, with the rarely seen summer sun shining down over the Priory garden. There was a large naval ship docked behind the mobile bar selling cold cans of Future Yard pale ale which had been brewed exclusively for the festival by Black Lodge in the Baltic Triangle. It was difficult to leave the Priory garden but if you wanted to witness the West Kirby-born Bill Ryder-Jones perform an intimate piano set in the fifty capacity max Priory Chapel then there was little time to snooze on the grass. A queue began to form twenty-plus minutes before the set began, which in turn led to a fifteen minute delay so a speaker could be put outside. Revealing that he wasn't particularly in the mood, the former Coral man was in good form but some of the audience were a little slow to react to his jokes at first. Beginning by taking a few requests, Jones performed a heartfelt set playing the likes of 'John', the incredibly sad 'Daniel' about his deceased brother, as well as 'There Are Worse Things I Could Do'.

There's usually a point where a festival really kicks off and it was a performance in the Priory garden by The Intergalactic Republic of Kongo that really got Future Yard going after somewhat slow-ish start. With the audience hesitant to come too closer, IRoK vocalist and driving force Mike Title jumped over the railings and practically dragged everyone forward. Dealing in a mix of Afrofuturism and early 90's dance-rock, the highlight was when they called a young kid up on stage and let him take over vocal duties for one of the songs. The young lad enjoyed himself so much that you thought they might have had a job on their hands getting the microphone back off him.

Given the hype starting to grow around the London-based six-piece over the past year, you'd have thought Black Country, New Road would have attracted a larger audience than they did in the Priory garden. Some sound issues delayed things by about ten minutes but their performance was easily one of the best of the weekend. Their sound is an experimental blend of post-punk, noise rock, jazz and Balkan folk, which can perhaps best described as listening to Swans, Slint, Tortoise and King Crimson all at once, with a tense and fearful David Byrne-esque character on vocals. Cacophonous and incredibly gripping, the sax and violin really add to the dark tension they create. Keep your eye on this band. The Priory garden cleared out pretty quickly as the majority of people headed off to check out what was on at the Town Hall and the Bloom Building. However, it soon filled back up as new faces arrived to catch Australian singer-songwriter Stella Donnelly. Unsure whether to stick or twist, the kind offer of a beer from a fellow festival goer persuaded us to stick and we were very glad that we did.

Connected to the area via her Welsh mother, Stella Donnelly performed a few tracks solo before being joined by her bandmates. Having not been that impressed with her album Beware of the Dogs earlier in the year, she was brilliant live and put in perhaps the funniest show of the weekend. Sharp and very witty, the chemistry she has with her band was also great to witness. It was a pleasure to be proven wrong. After spending most of the day at the Priory it was about time to check out the Bloom Building properly. Conveniently only a minute down the road, it was quite packed down when we'd poked our heads in earlier on. Holding around a hundred-or-so max with extra space outside, the audience at the brightly coloured converted industrial unit tended to be younger on average than those in and around the Priory. Although this wasn't the case for experimental trio Szun Waves, with the crowd being a little older but also fairly sparse during parts of their fifty minute set. Made up of electronic producer Luke Abbott, Laurence Pike of PVT on drums and Jack Wyllie of Portico Quartet on sax, their psychedelic electronic jazz explorations were perhaps a little too experimental for most of those who popped their heads in and out at various times. Bill Ryder-Jones took to the stage in the Town Hall as the Friday night headline act and seemed a little wobbly after one too ales throughout the day. Despite this though it didn't prevent him and his band from putting in a great performance, with the shoegazey and slowcore blend of 'Satellites' being one of a number of standout tracks in their ninety minute set.

After recognising numerous family and friends dotted around in the audience, he joked about how it's nice that the locals don't have to get a taxi back across the river after watching live music for once. After a bit more piss taking he uttered "no divisions" with a wry smile. But it wasn't an inter-city rivalry which divided the room, it was the large numbers of people at the back insisting on chattering constantly throughout his performance, with Jones asking them to keep quiet numerous occasions. SATURDAY Day two began very early for some with a two hour bike tour. Titled 'Viking Wirral on Wheels' it was scheduled to depart the Priory gates at 10:30am. How many people made it we have no idea, but we spotted a group of about two dozen heading out on a walking tour just after 1pm led by a local historian. Preferring something a bit more relaxing, we sat back and watched some yoga in the Priory garden and had a look at the Saturday's offerings. Kicking off the second day of music at the Priory was a programme curated by Focus Wales, an annual festival held in Wrexham which showcases the finest in Welsh talent. Opening this was Flintshire-born melodic soundscape artist Meilir who hopped between an electronic piano, an acoustic guitar and a typewriter, with his most powerful instrument being his stunning vocals. In addition, the Focus Wales showcase included performances by Cardiff-based electronic pop artist Ani Glass (formerly of The Pipettes in which she performed with her sister of Gwenno Saunders), as well as electronic pop duo HMS Morris who were performing in Liverpool for only the second time.

Merging North Wales with Merseyside were seven-piece melancholic pop band Gintis, with members from both Abergele and Liverpool. Crowds were starting to pick up a bit by the time they performed just after 5pm and they certainly made the best of their time on stage on what was turning out to be a super hot day. Despite the sun shining down we headed inside to the Priory Chapel to witness one of the highlights of the festival where Lo Five got the Reformat showcase rolling. The Liverpool-born, Hoylake-based electronic artist put together a seamless set of melodic, ambient techno-inspired tunes that had us hypnotised. We could easily have listened to another couple more hours of that. Faced with a difficult choice, we went with Seatbelts down at the Town Hall over the highly rated Eyesore & the Jinx over at the Bloom Building. It was good to stretch our legs a bit after spending most of the day sat on the grass in the Priory garden. We certainly weren't the only ones who spent large parts of their weekend basking in the sun.

Assembled by Hooton Tennis Club songwriting duo James Madden and Ryan Murphy after they began writing tunes that were a little more experimental, their socially conscious songs are great fun live. Abi Woods on keys and vocals has been a great addition to this band, who with two solid EP's behind them are certainly one to keep an eye on. Rather than walk ten minutes to the other venues only we grabbed a pint and waited for Beija Flo to enter the stage. It's pretty difficult to pick one standout act from the weekend as there were multiple but she has to be in the conversation. Her performance had everything, featuring a bit of poetry, comedy, dance and activism in between some great music.

She puts so much of her personality into her art and had the full attention of everyone in the Town Hall, opening up at one point about her issues with MRKH Syndrome (a condition which causes the vagina and uterus to be underdeveloped or absent, affecting one in five thousand women). An incredibly original artist who has the potential to go very far indeed. Line-up clashes are virtually inevitable at one point or another, especially with line-ups as good as Future Yard. It was certainly the case on Saturday evening. Pixx, Polypores and SPQR are all great and we were gutted that we were forced to miss them, but we just couldn't miss the opportunity to see Nilüfer Yanya perform in the Priory garden..

With the sun gone for another day, the 23-year old West London-born artist put in a fantastic performance. Playing tracks from her critically acclaimed full-length debut Miss Universe, the BBC Sound of 2018 nominee closed the Priory stage with her sophisticated blend of art pop, indie rock, soul, R&B and jazz. The sax playing was just superb. With no other performances taking place during her Saturday night headline set, the entire festival headed over to the Town Hall to witness Anna Calvi. It didn't take very long to see why many were happy to pay for a ticket just to see the Mercury-nominated singer-songwriter. While her studio material is pretty good, live she is something else entirely. A force of nature.

Dressed in her customary red shirt, black trousers and white boots, the power and passion of her performance and the way she holds a room with her Gothic-inspired vocals was quite incredible. Unlike the previous night, there was very little chattering during her ninety minute set which ended with a superb cover 'Ghost Rider' by Suicide. Whether or not "The Future is Birkenhead", as the volunteer staff t-shirts said, only time will tell. Despite ticket sales perhaps not being quite as high as many would have hoped, the inaugural Future Yard was undoubtedly a huge success. Not one person we spoke to came away with anything other than love for this most intimate of festivals. Read the full article

[delimeful]

WIBAR Intermission: Making Adjustments (2)

WIBAR INT chapter 1 

if you’re new to this AU, you can find the first story here and the ao3 story here! 

warnings: tension, fear, panic attack, mention of blood, and nightmares

-

Once he heard the sounds of the others waking, Virgil managed to work up the courage to head out to the common area, mostly to reassure his stupid brain that Patton really was safe.

Predictably, trouble immediately found him in the form of one very large, very pissed-off alien. 

Fortunately, he was too tired from staying up panicking all night to flinch at Roman’s approach. He raised an eyebrow in question, watching him for any sign of attack. “What’s wrong?” 

“What’s wrong?!” Roman echoed angrily, his huge clawed hands twitching. “What’s wrong is that you apparently decided to gallivant around our ship without supervision for the whole night!” 

Virgil tensed, his heart rate picking up. Did that mean that Roman really had seen him last night, and just acted otherwise? 

Before he could ask, there was an excited trill from the hall. 

“Virgil!” A flurry of bright blue feathers darted into the room, launching itself directly at his chest. 

He caught the Ampen with a wheeze, ignoring the little black spots in the corners of his vision. Relief filled him at the sight of his friend unharmed, and his shoulders lost some of their stiffness. “Hey, Pat.” 

Roman was twitching harder now, his eyes narrowed in a piercing red glare, but Patton didn’t seem to notice. “Where’d you go last night? I went to check on you before bed and you weren’t in your room!” 

Virgil felt a strange happy tug in his chest at the knowledge that Patton hadn’t forgotten about him, and his lips twitched up for a second before he processed the rest of his query. “Huh? Yes I was.” 

“No, you weren’t,” Roman growled. 

Patton leaned in conspiratorially. “He’s just grumpy because he was up patrolling all night even though I told him over and over that you weren’t going to do anything.” 

Virgil shrugged, careful not to upset Patton’s balance. “Well, that’s a shame, because I was in my room. I just wasn’t sleeping in the bed.” 

Roman said something in another language, but Virgil could recognize being called on his bullshit by the tone alone. He rolled his eyes, and turned to head into the hallway. 

“Fine, I’ll prove it.” 

They ran into Logan on the way to the bedroom, and he tucked his extra set of arms behind his back and followed them curiously, confirming that he had also believed Virgil had abandoned the room for the night. 

He had a lot to say when Virgil showed them the cabinet he’d spent the night curled up in, and then upon further prompting, gave a demonstration of how he “managed to fit” in it. 

Roman was speechless for a record-breaking minute and a half, until he noticed the lack of a cabinet door. 

Virgil pulled the mangled door out from beneath the egg-bed-hammock thing sheepishly. “It was an accident.” 

“You kicked through solid Plylon?” Logan asked, eyes bright with interest.

“You kicked through solid Plylon?” Roman asked, in a much more displeased tone of voice. 

“Kiddo, is there something wrong with the bed?” Patton asked, completely unfazed by the destroyed furnishing. Virgil gingerly set the Plylon(?) board down. 

“No, I just… slept easier in the small space,” he answered, having no idea what the word for cabinet was in Common. 

“Do you require a different room? I’m certain we can arrange a smaller or more contained bed,” Logan offered, something in his voice setting Virgil on edge.

“No, really, this works fine,” he insisted, and then resigned himself to lying. “It’s just like beds at home.” 

It wasn’t like he’d be not-sleeping here much longer anyhow. There was no point in making them waste their time on stuff for him. 

“Okay, if you’re sure…,” Patton said. Virgil nodded, and let the tiny alien drag him back to the commons. The last glimpse he got of the others were the two of them engaged in quiet conversation, Logan holding the shredded cabinet door out appraisingly. 

He shuddered, and didn’t look back again.

“You want anything?” Patton asked, a common phrase from back when they were forced to barter and gather for their food. Virgil forced himself not to automatically answer in the negative. There wasn’t a scarcity of food here, he didn’t have to skimp out so Patton would get a full meal. He was lucky the Ampen hadn’t realized that Virgil had been misleading him about how much humans needed to eat.

“Uh, sure. I’ll eat whatever.” One learned not to be picky when living as a hunted fugitive in space. Plus, apparently most “deathworlders” could eat things that would be considered poisonous to other aliens. He supposed his former caffeine addiction would seem outrageous to these guys. 

By the time Patton returned with bowls and silverware, Logan and Roman had returned to the commons, claiming their own spots on the couch built into the floor. Virgil made a note of where they were sitting for future reference of seats to avoid, studiously ignoring the two aliens’ gazes. 

Outright questions were more difficult to ignore. 

“Virgil, was it?” Logan started, stressing the second vowel for too long. Names didn’t translate too well in Common, so Virgil nodded vaguely, not bothering to correct him. “How often do you eat?” 

Oh great, the one question he didn’t want to answer in front of Patton. Virgil stared at him blankly for a moment, and then shoved an oversized piece of fruit into his mouth to stall for time. He immediately regretted the action as he began to gag on the overwhelmingly sweet flavor. 

Strangely enough, Logan immediately recoiled, and tucked all four of his arms behind himself. “My apologies,” he offered in a much more reserved tone, eyes averted. 

Virgil’s mouth was too occupied with the miscellaneous space fruit he was half-choking on to ask what the hell Logan thought he’d done wrong, so he held up a finger in a gesture of ‘just a second, let me finish inhaling this fruit’. 

There was a loud cracking noise a few feet away, and Virgil turned in time to watch Roman shake the splintered remains of his eating utensils from his claws. 

“I’m going to bed,” he announced with the dark anger of a wronged anime protagonist, and promptly stomped out of the room. Patton chirped a sound that was the Ampen equivalent of clicking his tongue. Virgil continued to choke on the damn fruit for another few moments. 

“What… was that all about?” he managed as his airway finally cleared up. “What’d I do?” 

Logan finally looked up at him again, a strange curiosity in his gaze. “You don’t know?” 

“Virgil was smuggled fresh off the planet, Lo,” Patton chimed in helpfully. “He hasn’t gotten any sensitivity training. You wouldn’t believe how many times I thought he was going to take a bite out of me just from how he was staring!” 

Virgil planted his face in his hands to hide his mortified flush. He spent a lot of time dissociating in that cell- he hadn’t realized he’d been staring at the time!  

“So, the threat displays are… unintentional, then?” Logan asked, and Patton gave an affirmative whistle. 

“What are... threat displays?” Virgil asked, clumsily sounding out the unfamiliar Common. Logan visibly perked up.

“The baring of teeth and extended jaw are signs of aggression in many cultures,” he explained, lifting his arms to gesture. “Beyond the fact that he truly does need sleep after staying up for so long, I believe Roman left because pointing with one digit is a gesture of disrespect in Crav’n sign. They have a language formed solely by hand signals and body gesturing, due to the prevalence of early-onset deafness in some adults.” 

“I- hold on.” Virgil turned to Patton. “Baby words for the idiot, please,” he requested, using the English word for idiot.

“I hope you’re not speaking bad about yourself, Virgil!” Patton knew him too well. The Ampen frowned suspiciously at him for a moment longer before repeating what Logan had said in simpler words, with some added English and gesturing for what certain Common phrases meant. Logan watched the byplay with wide, intrigued eyes. 

Virgil nodded, wishing he had a manual for alien body language. And a Common-to-English dictionary, while he was at it. And maybe a free spaceship ride home.

“I know about sign language,” he finally offered, fingerspelling his name in example. “Humans have… uh. Hearing-gone?” How had he already forgotten the word, Logan had just said it.

“Deafness?” Logan offered tentatively, and Virgil offered a quirk of his lips in thanks. 

“We have deafness also, there are many causes,” Virgil didn’t have the vocabulary to describe the human tradition of gathering together to have performers blast loud music directly at them at close range without sounding like a dumbass, so he left it at that. Who knew if aliens even got tinnitus. 

“Interesting,” Logan said, tracing patterns in the air with his lower hands. “I would have presumed- ah, guessed that weaker individuals wouldn’t have persisted- or, lived long enough to form a cultural touchstone like a sign language on a world like yours.”

Logan’s effort to dumb down his vocabulary helped, and Virgil raised an eyebrow once he figured out the implied question. “What, you think we just leave deaf people to get hurt alone?” 

He’d meant the question sarcastically, but Logan’s distinct silence was answer enough. He set his fork down despite not having eaten more than a bite of his food. “Oh.” 

Logan looked from Virgil to Patton and back, belatedly sensing his misstep. “I didn’t mean offense. I’ve simply been led to believe that human social constructs weren’t so… community-based.” 

“It’s fine,” Virgil said, careful not to come off snappish. He’d forgotten his situation, his position as a human for a moment. “Don’t worry about it.”

He pushed back from his chair, and Patton tilted his head, birdlike in his concern. “I’m just still a little tired. I’m going to rest some more.” 

“Do you want me to come with?” Patton asked, antennae leaning towards him. Virgil shook his head. He didn’t want to imagine what kind of scene would occur if Roman woke up and found them. He was supposed to be avoiding putting tension on Patton’s relationships, not increasing it. 

“No, you finish eating. I’ll probably be out later.” He didn’t meet Patton’s eyes as he turned away. Lying again. At least he knew that was what they really expected of him, being human and all.

“Is this amount of sleep normal for a human?” Virgil heard Logan ask in a not-quiet-enough tone as he left. He was out of range before he could hear Patton’s answer. 

He spent the rest of the light cycle sitting in the corner of his room behind the bed, not answering whenever Patton knocked gently on the sliding door. He couldn’t hang out, he was too busy staring blankly at the wall with only the barest perception of time passing. By the time he snapped out of his dissociative fugue, the hall lights had been dimmed and the ship was quiet once more.

Taking a spare moment to stretch away his body’s stiffness, he crawled back into the cupboard space. Sleep attempt two: electric boogaloo. He could feel exhaustion weighing on him, making his eyelids droop heavily with every blink. Surely he was tired enough to just get a dreamless coma-nap? Please? 

Barely an hour later, he jerked up and slammed his head into the roof of the compartment, breathing so stifled that he had to crawl out of the confining space before the band around his lungs loosened slightly. 

He could barely even remember what the nightmare had been about. The only things that lingered after he woke were snapshot sensations- flesh under his teeth, the feeling of being chased, Patton’s rust-orange blood too much they’ll find him run run run- and a sense of terrified dread settling deep into his bones. Probably for the best that he didn’t remember the specifics. He shuddered, pulling himself to his feet. 

As long as he avoided the part of the ship where the others slept, it wouldn’t hurt to walk around the ship a little, ease his nerves. He hoped. It wasn’t like he was going to touch anything important, just… maybe try to figure out how the kitchen worked around here. 

He was struck with a feeling of deja vu as he crept through the corridors, and snorted at realizing that he was sneaking around to get a snack like he’d done back when he was ten. Everything always seemed louder in the quiet of the night when everyone else was asleep, though it was offset slightly by the way the walls hummed. Side effect of being in a spaceship, he supposed. 

When he reached the kitchen, he realized that he wasn’t the only one who’d thought to rummage around for a snack. Logan was there, humming one of Patton’s melodies softly as he leaned over whatever he was fixing himself. His arms were more extended than Virgil had seen since their first encounter, three of them busy with making food while the fourth one traced squiggles into the air. He tilted his head curiously, and then rapped his knuckles against the wall quietly to announce his presence.

All of Logan’s hands spasmed in surprise, but his turn to face Virgil was slow and measured, not fearful. The moment he recognized him, his extra arms were tucked away behind him, and he stared at Virgil with those translucent eyes. 

“Are you nocturnal?” he asked, and Virgil blinked. It was better than being interrogated on what he was doing out of his room, he supposed. 

“Nah, just got up because I was hungry,” he answered. He couldn’t really be nocturnal if he wasn’t sleeping during the day. He wasn’t sleeping at night, either, but that was beside the point. “What are you eating?” 

Logan glanced behind himself. “Are you asking simply out of curiosity? A desire to know?”

“Uh, yeah. Just wondering.” At his response, Logan relaxed slightly and shifted aside. 

“I am eating a staple food made from ground meal and water, with a preserve- a sort of sweet topping made from fruits of my home planet.” 

It looked kind of like jam on untoasted bread, though the textures appeared slightly different. “Huh. Nice,” Virgil offered him a thumbs up, and then, at Logan’s intrigued gaze, remembered that he’d only ever explained that gesture to Patton. “It’s a hand-sign meaning ‘good’ or approval.” 

“I see!” Logan mimicked the gesture curiously with both hands, and Virgil noticed how his fingers, while similar to a human’s, tapered to a distinctly thinner point at the end. Probably pretty useful for finer, more detailed craftwork or repairs.   

“Would you like to try some?” Logan’s voice cut smoothly into his thoughts.

“What?” Virgil looked up to see the alien holding up a piece of bread. Was this out of fear, like when Patton had always let Virgil eat first back in the cell? “Oh, uh, I don’t want to take your food.” 

“I’m offering it. Sharing food is a show of community and trust in many cultures.” Logan recited the fact neutrally, but something about the way his hands tensed and untensed behind his back made Virgil think he was taking this conversation seriously regardless. 

He reached forward to take the bread, careful not to get the jam all over his hands. “Thank you.”  

Logan inclined his head slightly, long ears twitching. Virgil did his best to ignore the way he was openly staring as he bit into the bread. The crust was much softer than he’d expected, but the taste of the bread was distinctly less sweet than most white breads, almost savory. The jam on top did more than enough to provide the sugar, though, and Virgil hummed in appreciation. At least if he was going to have an allergic reaction and die from space food, it would be tasty space food. 

“Is that a sign of enjoyment?” Logan asked, clearly invested in Virgil’s opinion for whatever reason, and he nodded.  

“Yeah, it tastes really good.” His gaze trailed down to where Logan’s lower arms were drawing patterns in the air again. “Hey, why do you do that?” The arms were immediately stowed away again. “And that. Am I not supposed to look at them?” 

Logan slowly drew his arms back out, ears tilted up curiously. “No, it is okay for you to view them. I was simply trying not to startle or otherwise upset you... When the three of us first began to travel together, I had to learn how to mind my arms to avoid causing Roman undue stress.”

“Roman got nervous because of your arms?” Virgil raised an eyebrow. The huge alien didn’t seem the type to be twitchy around friends. 

“For a Crav’on, spreading one’s arms is an imminent sign of an attack. Roman hadn’t been around any Ulgorii before, so it took him a while to adjust and be able to view my gesturing without believing that I was upset or about to lunge at him,” he explained. “Do humans not feel threatened by such motions?” 

“Uh… maybe if I didn’t realize you were there at first? As long as you don’t, like, hit me, I don’t really mind if you do your little,” he wiggled his fingers in an imitation of Logan’s gestures, “thing with all your hands.” 

“I would not hit you,” Logan hurried to reassure him. “My mind-weaving is very contained even when it looks… haphazard, or messy.” 

“Mind-weaving?” Virgil asked, and then watched as Logan brought his hands forward to show him the air-patterns he was tracing. “Oh, is that what that is?” 

“Yes. It’s a method of physical memory integration for my people, to keep a record of important thoughts or data.” Logan twisted his wrist slightly. “It makes it significantly easier to recall information, as well.”

“Huh,” Virgil said, reminded of notetaking. “Why are you always doing it around me? I’m not that interesting.” 

Logan’s ears angled downwards in disagreement. “To the contrary, I’ve nearly cramped my hands recording all the information I can about you! It’s been quite the trial to keep track of all of your mannerisms and what they imply about life on your planet.”  

A trickle of unease dripped down Virgil’s spine, making goosebumps rise on his skin. “Uh, why are you doing it then?” 

The alien looked as though Virgil had asked why the sky was blue. “I have to make sure I don’t forget anything, of course. There’s never been scientific records of a human from direct contact and engagement like my conversations with you. There’s so much to learn, so many misconceptions to dispel and correct! I’d be a particularly poor scientist if I didn’t keep records of it all for the future.”

Scientist. Virgil dropped the remnants of his bread, stumbling back as adrenaline surged through him. He clutched as his heart, furious at his own physiology for making it all the easier for Logan to take more from him. Patton had said he trusted him but did Patton know? Was Patton in on it? Had all this- befriending him, speaking with him, bringing him into their home- been some insane ploy from the beginning? For what? A willing lab rat? 

Movement in the corner of his eye made his head snap up, and he bared his teeth ferally at the sight of Logan trying to reach towards him, to take. “No! Don’t- Get away from me!” 

The alien jerked away like he’d touched a hot stove, eyes big and afraid because Virgil was human and humans were monsters and they were going to get rid of him-

“Lo?” Roman’s low voice overlapped with Logan’s terrified nonsense words, Virgil’s own shallow breaths, and the sight of the Crav’on in the room was enough to snap him out of his frozen state and into flight. He shoved a chair to skid across the floor in Roman’s direction and bolted, halfway to his room before realizing that that was the first place they’d look. 

He cursed. He’d leave, get off this stupid ship and save them the trouble of booting him, but all there was outside was the cold vacuum of space, and he didn’t know how to work the stupid doors anyways. There were calls of his name from the side of the ship he’d left behind.  

Virgil found the tallest appliance he could and scaled to the top of it easily, shoving himself into the furthest shadowy corner and pretending that he was back on that ship, alone in that tiny, dark cell. At least there he knew who was going to hurt him, and when.